Cold Water
by Maxamantium
Summary: PWP. Prompt fill for tumblr. Sterek in the locker room. bottom!Derek. knots, etc. shower kink. I'm not sure whether to persuade or warn.


Stiles could feel his back cracking as he stretched. The sticky, gross stench of sweat filled the locker room as he and the lacrosse team stripped off their uniforms for a good long shower after what could only be described as a humiliating loss. Trust Scott to throw the game for the sake of a romp with his girlfriend.

Stiles groaned and stepped in the shower beside Danny and some other guy Stiles thought might be named Ramirez or something. "Ugh, we we slaughtered."

Danny sighed as he dumped a very liberal amount of shampoo into his hands, "Tell me about it. Where was McCaul?"

Stiles shrugged, "With Allison probably."

Danny hummed and proceeded to lather shampoo into his hair. Stiles stepped under the hot spray of the communal showers and sighed as the water soothed his aching muscles.

After a couple minutes everyone but Stiles had washed and were heading home to wallow in defeat. However, Stiles had a habit of being the last one out of the shower due to the fact that he didn't trust the cleanliness of communal bathing, preferring to stay after to wash whatever filth the other guys may have transferred in the bizarre act.

Humming a little Stiles lathered up his peaches and cream body soap and slathered it onto his chest, rubbing in slow circles around his nipples. A little groan escaped his lips and Stiles was reminded of the other reason he lingered.

With a quickness to rival a werewolf, Stiles lowered his hand toward his prick and and gave it a few lazy strokes, "Mmm."

Stiles reveled in this. It had been days since he cleaned the pipes and he was long overdue for a good tug. He spread his legs a little wider and rested his chest against the tile wall, a cold contrast to the water beating down his back. With a moan he wrapped his right hand firmly around the base of his prick and pulled in long even strokes, "Fuck…"

As he stroked himself images flew threw his mind; images of people bent over counters and sofas and legs in the air as he thrust into them. He tugged a little on his balls and let out another moan.

More images of dark hair in his hand as he pushed a head into the floor, a set of flashing eyes and sharp teeth sinking into an arm to keep from being too vocal, the sound of sharp claws digging into the metal of his…. holy shit….

Stiles stilled and his breathe caught in his throat. Holy crap that was claws.. legit claws on what sounded like one of the locker doors. Man the last thing he wanted tonight was for Scott to walk in on his wanking session.

"Scott?" he called out hesitantly.

There was no answer, only a shuffle of feet and then Stiles saw Derek round the corner as he simultaneously remembered his prick was still hot and hard in the palm of his hand.

"D-Derek, what- what are you doing here?" Stiles spluttered and let go of his prick which through this whole ordeal was still at full mast and ready to set sail, werewolf or not.

Derek quirked a brow at him, "I had been looking for Scott…"

It was open-ended, like he expected Stiles to elaborate on something. Stiles swallowed and pretended that _the_ Derek Hale didn't catch him jerking off, "He's not here."

Derek smirked, "I can see that. What are you doing here?"

Stiles flushed, "Well I'm uh… showering?"

Derek's smirked widened, "That all you were doing?"

Stiles groaned. _Kill me now._

Derek slid over to him and stood beside him, fully clothed and under the hot spray of the water.

"I could help you with this if you want," and then Derek is grabbing Stiles' erection in his hand and holy fuck if that's not everything Stiles has secretly wanted for ages.

"Oh my god, please do," Stiles groans as Derek slips onto the floor in front of Stiles and pushes his body against the wall.

"Don't move," It was a command Stiles had no doubt would be enforced.

He sucked in a breathe as Derek licked a wet stripe from the base of his cock to the slit. Stiles moan as he looked down at the man between his legs.

Stiles was positive that if Derek ever entered a wet t-shirt contest he'd defiantly win. The triskelion on his back was visible through the white shirt the werewolf wore and Stiles swore he would trace it with his tongue later.

Stiles moaned as Derek took his entire length as far down his throat as he could before bobbing up and down, his tongue doing wicked things that Stiles would never be able to put in words.

With a shaking breathe he reached down and threaded his hand through Derek's hair and gave a light tug. To his surprise, Derek let out a debauched moan that would make a porn star blush. The vibrations alone had Stiles turning 9 shades of red.

"Fuck Derek," Stiles smirked and pulled the man's lips from his cock to pull him up to his face, "Like it a little rough huh?"

Derek moaned and Stiles' cock gave an appreciative twitch, "Want to take this a little further?"

Derek panted and nodded, "Fuck yes…" And without another word the two were tangled up in each other, lips sliding together and tongues exploring every crevasse they could find. It was hot and sloppy and Stiles swore he felt a fang at one point but it didn't matter because he was kissing Derek fucking Hale.

They break apart for air and Derek growls deep in his throat and if Stiles could be any more aroused he would have exploded right there, "Stiles, I need you to fuck me."

Stiles nods fervently, "Yeah, I can totally do that."

And then Derek is on his hands and knees, pushing his pants and boxers just far enough that his own erection is exposed and his ass is presented readily to Stiles.

Stiles fucking whimpered at that before his mind supplied a little bit of logic for a split second, "I don't have a rubber… or any lube."

Derek growled, "You clean?"

Stiles scoffed, "Of course."

"Then get down here and fuck me. I can handle the pain."

Stiles moans at this and kneels down behind him. There was something he wanted to try and now seemed as good a time as any.

"I'd rather you not hulk out on me so I'm going to give this a shot," and without much warning Stiles is spreading Derek's ass and shoving his tongue into the twitching hole. A chill runs down Stiles' spine as he thinks about how he was finally able to run his tongue across this gift from the fucking werewolf gods. His mouth alternated between Derek's crack and his testicles as he tasted the manliest, most private, sensitive parts of his body.

"Oooh yeah" Derek moaned every time Stiles held his tongue against his hole. Stiles knew he liked the rimming because he kept shoving his ass in his face, and Stiles kept planting his tongue right back in there.

Derek cries out and shoves his face into the tile on the floor, "God Stiles!" He rocks back on his face and Stiles can hardly contain his pride in himself.

A few thrusts of tongue and an experimental bite to Derek's ass turn up satisfying results that have Stiles storing information for later as he sits up straight and lines his prick up with Derek's hole.

The water from the shower is still beating down on them as Stiles pushes his head into Derek, "Fuck, you're tight."

Derek shudders and moans, "Been a while."

Stiles moans and slowly slides the rest of the way into the werewolf. He swears they both growl. Stiles gives Derek exactly forty seconds to adjust before he's pulling out and slamming back in again.

"Fuck!" Derek growls.

Stiles moans in agreement as he begins slowly thrusting in and out of Derek, "God you're tight."

Derek moans and Stiles shifts a little as he picks up his pace until he's barreling into the werewolf like he's damn near mechanical.

"Fuck yeah, you like that?" Stiles pushes the wet t-shirt up to Derek's shoulders and traces his tattoo with his tongue.

Derek lets out a deep moan, "Fuck, harder Stiles. I won't break."

And Stiles takes that as some sort of challenge and he cants his hips downward at an angle that makes Derek fucking _whimper_.

"Fuck yeah, right there, right there, right there…" It becomes as a mantra as Stiles hits his prostate with every carefully angled thrust.

When Stiles feels the tell tale pull in his balls he moves his hands from Derek's hips and grips his hair rough as his thrust become erratic.

Derek whimpers again, "Stiles I'm going to…"

Stiles pants, the water from the shower dripping in his eyes as he nods his head, "Me too."

And then he's shooting long and hard into Derek and it's like he's been hit by a freight train.

Derek moans at the feeling and something in him swells as he shoots his load all over the shower room floor. And Stiles is still thrusting into him as he rides out his orgasm and something in the back of Derek's mind turns on as they collapse in a heap on the floor, the spray from the shower having finally gone cold.

Through heavy panting Stiles slides out of Derek to collapse on the floor beside him, "Fuck, I've wanted to do that for so long."

Derek is only half listening as he looks down at his cock, thick and swelled in the middle almost as if he had a….. oh.

Stiles looks over at him "Derek? Buddy? Hey, Sourwolf! Say something!"

Derek looks at him and then back at his prick, "I think I have a knot in my penis."

Stiles chokes on whatever he was going to say and looks down at Derek's cock (which to be honest he's just now getting around to looking at), "Well, that's something I'll have to try out later." He laughs and Derek chuckles as well.

They lay there on the floor for a while before the water becomes uncomfortably cold and they get up and start to dry off, Stiles fishing an old basketball uniform from the coach's office for Derek to wear in place of his soaking wet clothes.

Stiles smiles awkwardly as they get dressed together (how on earth did they manage to go unnoticed?).

"So," Stiles started, "Want to maybe go out for dinner sometime?"

Derek looks up from the hideous tank top he has to wear and smiles at the man beside him, "I'd like that."


End file.
